Queen of Hearts
by WeirdVision
Summary: Sequel to Thief of Hearts, Eyes Like Yours, and Does it Come in Black?


**Queen of Hearts**

(Sequel to Thief of Hearts, Eyes Like Yours, and Does it Come in Black?)

Outside the Wayne residence.

"Look at this house…"

"Yes, Dear."

"It's so… big."

"Yes, Dear."

"It's like a palace! When I think he burned it to the ground… it's outrageous! This young man has no respect for his family heritage."

"Yes, Dear."

"And then he had it all rebuilt in just one summer… can you imagine how much money it must have cost him? Outrageous!"

"Oh, yes, Dear…"

The security at the door opened it for them to enter and Mrs. Berrigan's face fell, seeing the luxury reigning inside.

o o o

"You look quite dashing, Master Bruce." Alfred appreciated watching his master while he was tying his bow tie.

"Well, we always have to preserve appearances, don't we?" Bruce replied ironically. It was a way of life.

"The Wayne name should be respected, yes, Sir," Alfred said with pedantry.

He glanced at the older man and smirked. "Too bad others don't respect it, eh?"

"We've got Batman to take care of those." The butler nodded but it was obvious he didn't approve with what he said.

"Right…" Bruce muttered and checked his gold cufflinks. "Has everyone arrived yet?"

"Most of the guests are already here, Sir," Alfred told him and added with emphasis, "waiting…"

"Good, let them wait." It was expected for him to be late. He asked laconically, "Is she here?"

A pair of eyebrows rose. "'She', Sir?" Bruce didn't answer. "Oh… no, Sir, I don't think she's here yet."

The expression on Bruce's face was unreadable as he straightened his suit coat and looked at himself in the mirror one last time. "Ok, let's face the music…"

o o o

Somewhere in a dark room, a man walked around the place, gathering things together and placing them inside a large bag. He was humming something, a creepy song with no words. A flashlight was lit, the spotlight aimed at his face, and he made a scary grimace. He laughed, muttered something, and threw the flashlight, along with the rest of the stuff, into the bag. One last look was given to the surroundings to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything and then he walked out the door, planning to never return.

o o o

Groups of people were spread over the reception room, talking about the main event. There was a small orchestra playing on the side and waiters were slaloming among guests, carrying trays full with appetizers. Random comments could be heard here and there.

"Great party. All the important people in town are gathered here. Everything is perfect… including these delicious finger sandwiches." A woman claimed.

"Yes, it is, Dear. Too bad our host is not here," Her husband agreed.

"Has anyone seen him tonight?" another woman asked.

Multiple voices answered, "No… not me… nope."

"Isn't that a bit rude?" the same woman continued annoyed. "Missing his own party… he did the same thing the last time."

"Now then he was rude," the man agreed.

"And I wanted to dance with him," his wife whined. "He's such a cutie!"

"More like a loaded cutie," the other woman snorted.

The man muttered, "An infatuated son of a…"

"I've gotta admit, the house looks even better than the last time," his wife interrupted. "I want the name of his decorator."

"He couldn't afford curtains and drapes though," her friend laughed derisingly.

There was a faint chuckle and a silhouette dressed in blue passed behind them.

o o o

Alfred hurried after Bruce and caught up with him in the main hall.

"Sir! There's a phone call for you."

"Now?" He was being sarcastic.

"Yes, Sir, I'm sorry but it seems to be important. Lt. Gordon…"

"Gordon?" Bruce interrupted him with a frown. "OK, I'll come in a minute," he murmured, watching the woman just entering the hall. He walked straight to her.

"Good evening," she greeted, a smile dancing on her soft lips and in her dark eyes. "Lovely place,"

"Yes." He cut her off abruptly. "Listen, I have to go for a while." He lowered his voice as he looked down at her. "It's important…"

"Okay," she nodded, not quite understanding what he was talking about, but feeling the sense of urgency.

His hand reached for her arm. "I need you to host the party for me until I return."

"What?" She stared at him. "Are you drunk?"

"No." God, he'd showed up once acting drunk and now everyone thought he was one. He rolled his eyes. "Just cover for me while I'm gone. Alfred will be here and will help you with anything you need," he insisted.

"We're not burning down the house this time, Sir," the butler stated in a warning tone.

"No. Just see everyone attended to until I return."

"Yes, Sir," Alfred nodded, his honor at stake now, while only a moment earlier he'd given his master a most disapproving look. Sure, the lady looked great in that blue dress and he didn't doubt she would have no problem hosting the party, but she was not family, he didn't even know her well, _they_ didn't know her, and she didn't know them. He just happened to be wrong about the last part.

"But… I don't understand…" she hesitated, the same line of thought running through her mind.

"I don't have time to explain it now. I'll be back as soon as possible and do it then." Some sort of explanation would be given, though not necessarily the truth. He started walking towards the door opposite the party.

"Hmm… OK, but the floor is mine," she announced with a smirk.

"You can have the entire dance floor, just save one for me," he joked and winked.

"I'm serious." She frowned at him.

"We'll talk when I get back," he said and disappeared behind the door.

He hadn't said yes. She frowned and turned to look at Alfred.

"Ummm… okay… so where do I start?"

"Come with me, Miss, and I will introduce you to the guests."

She sighed and, putting on a smile, returned to the party to do as requested.

o o o

As the gates opened for the last arriving guest, the big fancy car rolled smoothly along the driveway. The identity of the passenger was hidden behind the black windows. No invitation was needed.

o o o

The Tumbler rushed almost unseen on the city streets. The police had long given up trying to stop it; no one could brag about ever giving a speeding ticket to Batman. Of course, not many people knew to whom that car belonged, or if it even was a car. It ran so fast that people who happened to be on the street usually only felt a strong wind for a moment or two and saw a flash of light racing by them. The license plate number had never been spotted, not that it had one.

Gordon's directions had been pretty precise; it wasn't hard to find the building where a supposed well-known terrorist had been hiding for the past few days. At least, that was what the police had said. Why hadn't they gone to pick him up themselves? Good question. Apparently, he was part of a big conspiracy and the paperwork had to be avoided in order for his accomplices not to know he'd been eliminated.

The location was somewhere in the bad part of town, where it was better to go in with a tank and not make any stops for sightseeing. Going in was easy, going out though, was questionable. The car was parked on a dirty street next to a half-full dumpster and left there, its driver seemingly not caring that someone might try to steal it or damage it.

A metal cord thrown to the top of the five story building brought him up to the window that interested him. Always make an entrance, it was one of the first rules in the book. Finding it open, he climbed over the sill and stepped inside carefully, making as little noise as possible. He looked to both sides, but the place seemed to be empty. Normally he wouldn't mind waiting, but tonight in particular, he didn't have much time for that. It was dark and quiet, warm air coming from outside through the open window, along with the faint noises and lights of the sleeping city.

This type of atmosphere usually made him feel safe, but this time it gave him the creeps. He went further into the room and it was too late when he saw the timer, just reaching zero. It's a trap! his conscious screamed at him and, before the words finished forming in his mind, his world blew up in millions of pieces.

o o o

How many people had she met already? She couldn't remember. Alfred was standing close behind her, telling her who was who and to whom she should pay more attention. Some she'd recognized by herself from the papers, but she didn't know them personally. That didn't stop her from going to them, asking if they were enjoying the party, had enough to drink, and assure them that Bruce was going to join them shortly. He had better be!

Women were looking at her suspiciously, it happened whenever someone looked better than them, but men seemed to enjoy her conversation, and she told the story of rebuilding the house again and again, adding details from herself and inventing cute little stories regarding the builders, their experience with them, and all the auctions that had been won to get the art needed to decorate it and the antique furniture. Nothing was too good for Bruce Wayne.

Alfred wondered once or twice whether she was indeed so vain or working for an advertising company, but only until she whined under her breath during one of the breaks necessary to refill her glass.

"God, Alfred, introduce me to someone with some brains. I'm getting bored out of my mind here!"

"Yes, of course, Miss," he smiled, understanding her perfectly. "Right here. There's Lucius Fox, chairman of the board for Wayne Enterprises," he told her and walked to the tall black man who was standing to one side, watching the party, a drink in hand.

Must be someone important if Bruce lets him run his business, she thought. "Mr. Fox, it's nice to meet you." She offered him her hand.

"You've been a busy bee tonight, Miss." Lucius bowed his head slightly. He'd noticed her talking to just about everyone, as had most people. They were commenting already about her involvement with Wayne.

"Yes, who'd have thought this could be such a tiring job? I should have asked for a better commission," she joked, showing her sparkling white teeth as she laughed.

"Master Bruce has been retained, and Miss has been kind enough to host the party for him until he returns," Alfred explained.

"Ah, I see…" Lucius couldn't think of anyone more appropriate for that role. The multi-billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne was usually seen in the company of beautiful women, but none of them had much brains to brag about. "You must be very brave then. It's quite a crowd."

"Or insane," she chuckled.

Not insane, he decided; the woman knew exactly what she was doing and how to do it. That could be dangerous, he realised, but Alfred seemed to like her, and that could only be considered a good point in her favor.

"I'm going to go insane if he doesn't hurry and show up." There was a bit of a warning in her tone now. She'd agreed to this without even knowing why she was doing it and there'd better be an explanation coming soon.

Lucius glanced at his old friend. "He wouldn't miss his party…" _twice_, he hoped.

She let out a small sigh. "I hope not. Please excuse me, I need to go and greet the Mayor." She rolled her eyes a little and headed his way.

"Future Mrs. Wayne?" Lucius smirked at Alfred.

"Oh, I hope so. Someone has to take care of him and I'm getting too old for this job," he replied in a huff.

"You're not old, Alfred." Lucius patted his shoulder, amused, and the butler left after the newly appointed hostess, shaking his head. He didn't know her well enough yet; if he did he might have had to think twice before wanting her as Mistress. She could be just as difficult as Bruce and she wasn't playing Wonder Woman.

Alfred caught up with her just as the Mayor was expressing his concern about the house safety after the fire that had burned it to the ground and was commenting something about the Fire Department who should have more strict rules. "Hey, Gordon," he called out to a man who was talking with a group nearby, "any new leads on the fire in 58th Street from last week?"

The man turned and answered politely, "Not yet, Sir, but we're working on it."

She felt Alfred tense by her side. "This is Lt. Gordon," he introduced them.

"Ma'am…" Gordon nodded at her.

_That Gordon?_ She looked at Alfred, the question written clearly in her eyes, before smiling at the man. The butler nodded imperceptibly.

"Mr. Gordon, Master Bruce wished to speak to you about the security of the estate. May I show you what he had in mind?" Alfred pulled him away.

"Yes, of course." the policeman followed him.

_Not without me! _"Would you please excuse me, I have to tell the kitchen staff to make more appetizers. Bruce is late as usual and we can't start dinner without him," she told the Mayor, giving him a cute smile, and ran after the two in time to hear Alfred say:

"…Master Bruce received a phone call from you earlier this evening."

She froze when Gordon replied, "I didn't make any call. I've been here since 7:30."

"I'm sorry, must be my mistake then." Alfred recovered quickly, gestured for a passing waiter to replace the guest's empty glass, and walked away, leaving a puzzled man behind.

"What's going on?" she hissed pulling Alfred by the sleeve of his jacket, refusing to let the matter go.

"I'm not sure… but it can't be good," he muttered and, seeing her pale, added with confidence, "I'm sure Master Bruce can handle it, whatever it is. Will you please see to the guests while I make some calls?"

"Okay…" she mumbled faintly. Damn Bruce for doing this to her and making her worry for him, even if she didn't have to.

o o o

The angle of the last firework launcher was finally diverted from the initial position and the author of the criminal gesture rubbed his hands contentedly. The four dozen fireworks that had been brought in order to provide a fantastic firework were now aimed at the roof of the massive building. There was enough gunpowder to blast the whole thing off. He took the blue maintenance jacket off, turned it inside out and put it back on. Whistling quietly he entered the house through the back door, convinced that no one was going to give him a second look, thanks to the white jacket that made him look like any of the present waiters.

o o o

"Here you are…"

His voice startled her making her jump and she turned to face him. "Bruce… are you alright?" she gasped.

"Yes, I'm fine." He didn't look that fine. She'd seen him in the same suit when she'd arrived and, while still handsome as ever, the difference was obvious to her. He was tense, the muscles along his jaw twitching, and he was favoring his left arm. "How's the party going?" he asked, but he wasn't watching her, he was busy scanning the crowd.

"Fine. Listen, Alfred and I have talked to Lt. Gordon and he didn't call you…"

"I've figured that out already," he grimaced. His mistake, why would Gordon call him and send him to catch a criminal when he didn't know the connection between him and Batman? When he lived a double life for so long it was easy to mix up things on the long run. Note to self, be more careful in the future.

"What's going on?" she asked demandingly. He had better answer this time.

"I was set up," he murmured. What about her? What if someone had sent her to distract him? But no, he'd been the one to invite her, because he wanted her stupid floor. Did he? He didn't remember what he wanted from her, his head was still pounding.

The force of the explosion had thrown him out the window and into the apartment across the street, flying in through another window where he'd laid unconscious for several minutes. Sweating at the memory, he felt like the collar was choking him, Alfred had tied his bow tie too tight, and he lifted a hand to try and enlarge it.

She watched with horror as his fingers left a red bloodied mark on the immaculate collar of his shirt. "You're hurt…" she whispered.

"Just a scratch." Not exactly; pulling out his upper arm from the teeth of the cutting wheel that had pierced his costume had almost made him pass out again. Blood was still dripping along his arm, inside his jacket sleeve.

Nothing could guarantee he was telling the truth, but she couldn't exactly interrogate him in the middle of the party. Instead, she leaned in close in a romantic pose and pressed her lips on his collar partially hiding the blood stain under a lipstick mark. "Don't shake hands with anyone," she murmured by his ear.

Bruce pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his hands on it, but he knew it only solved the problem temporarily.

"Mr. Wayne," the chief of the security staff approached them, "There seem to be a problem…"

"What kind of problem?"

"A missing guest problem. A car passed through the gates, but the occupant never made it to the front door. We found the driver inside the car, but no sign of the guest," the man reported.

"How long ago did it happen?"

"About half an hour ago. The driver doesn't seem to know anything. It's a limo, he didn't even see the passenger."

"OK, keep searching." Bruce dismissed him. He turned to the woman standing close beside him, murmuring to himself, "He's in here… we need to get everyone out," and groaned when Mrs. Berrigan interrupted them.

"You did a wonderful work with this place, Mr. Bruce, it looks even better than before," her voice squeaked.

"Thank you, Mrs. Berrigan," he said shortly.

"Too bad you got cheap with the curtains," the woman continued, not bothered by his lamely disguised lack of interest.

"Not at all, Ma'am. The curtains are here waiting to be hung first thing in the morning." Not true. "They haven't been put on especially so you can watch the eclipse that will take place tonight."

"Oh?"

"Yes and, since it's such a beautiful weather, we should all go outside to watch, as it has started already," his lady friend jumped in quickly.

Bruce gave her a grateful, surprised look, he should have thought about that, and called out "Everyone, please join me outside on the front lawn to watch the eclipse!" Then he lowered his voice to tell Alfred, "Make sure there are plenty of drinks for everyone."

He stood by the door watching the group move out one by one and, when the last person walked out, he rushed in the opposite direction saying over his shoulder, "Keep them out."

"Bruce wait…" she protested in vain. Getting into an argument would have been pointless and he really wanted her out. She would be safe there, he hoped.

A security guard was planted at the door and also told to watch the guests and then Bruce went to find Alfred. "He must be inside." There was nothing feminine in the room he'd been sent to from what he'd been able to see, so he assumed it had to be a man. The driver seemed to confirm his theory, given the voice he'd heard. Further more, he'd stood at the door on purpose to see who was going out and now he knew who might still be in, since he'd been the one to make the guest list along with Alfred. So, the man he was looking for had to be wandering around either pretending to be a guest, or impersonating the personnel.

"Check the hired help."

Alfred nodded and left in one direction, while Bruce went in the other.

o o o

The moon was flirting with the earth's shadow, not giving in too easily, as if it was in no hurry to be conquered. The eclipse had started hours ago and it promised to take another good couple of minutes until it reached its peak. Someone was explaining loudly the physics behind the phenomenon, entertaining the guests. So far, they hadn't started complaining of getting bored. The members of the orchestra who could carry their instruments had brought them out and they were providing an eerie music appropriate for the event. Some of the waiters and kitchen staff were there too.

She looked up at the sky, it was a beautiful sight, but she couldn't really focus, she kept glancing at the entrance wondering what was going on inside. Was Bruce OK? Why she was worrying about him she couldn't quite explain. Shifting in place again and again, she made a decision Bruce was probably going to scold her for later. She went back inside. The guard posted at the door frowned at her, but she gave him one of those 'how dare you, I'm the hostess' looks, combined with a deeper frown that made the man step aside and let her pass.

The halls were empty, except for the occasional waiter who was rushing back and forth with trays, drinks, and finger food. She sniffed the air looking longingly after one loaded tray moving away; she hadn't eaten all night and she was starting to feel more than just a bit hungry, but she pushed that thought out of her mind for the time being.

One moment of distraction and she found herself squeaking when a strong arm grabbed her by the waist and dragged her into a room.

o o o

No one suspicious-looking on the ground floor. The upper floor looked deserted with all the personnel at work downstairs and the entrance to the cave hadn't been touched. Where the hell was he? Bruce bristled as he walked down the stairs, jumping two steps at a time.

"Any luck, Sir?" He met with Alfred in the main hall.

Bruce shook his head. "You? Did you see anything suspicious?" He wasn't expecting Alfred to take down anyone, or even try, but he had a keen eye for details, if something was wrong he wouldn't miss it for sure.

"No, but one of the waiters has been fired because he wasn't holding the tray properly." Alfred didn't agree with that method of handling things, he would have shown the man how to do it and then fired him only if he still persisted in his mistake.

"Aha!… How many waiters do we have working tonight?"

"45."

"Well, the night's still young…"

Master Bruce, ever the optimist.

"I have a list."

The very efficient Alfred.

They didn't need the list though. As he entered a corridor he saw a flicker of blue material disappearing behind a door. By the way those feet were thrashing, the heels scratching the freshly waxed floor, he guessed it hadn't been done willingly. His breath stopped momentarily and his heart thundered painfully in his chest. Was that fear he was feeling? Fear was making him weak, that's why he'd gotten rid of it long ago, but now it was back. He shuddered. This girl was ruining his life.

"Lock the door," he told Alfred and started to run towards the stairs. "And cut off the power!"

"Master Bruce, the suit!" The Bat suit was downstairs in the cave.

"No time!"

Even with all the practice, it still took him several priceless minutes to put it on, and he couldn't risk that. He wouldn't play with her life, it didn't belong to him to dispose of, he could only gamble his. He'd been doing that most of his life.

He went upstairs to the room above and lowered himself down on a cord, planning to enter through the window. As Batman that was piece of cake, it all depended on the force used. Without the suit he was going to discover it wasn't such a pleasant experience. He felt each piece of glass that cut his shirt as the tall window shattered and he landed on his knees on the floor. Instantly, two mini-grenades were thrown into the middle of the room, filling it with a thick layer of smoke. A regular breathing pattern would keep the lungs from clogging, but the other two people in the room didn't know that and two sets of coughs emerged from different places.

A moment later the power went off. Outside the guests gasped as the last rays of light coming from the moon were fading away too. Total darkness.

Before that even happened, Bruce had launched himself towards the enemy. He had a gun, but shooting in the darkness was not going to help, and if he didn't hit the target, bullets could bounce and hurt _her_. There was a fierce fight with lots of blows, hisses and huffs, bone breaking, facial features changing and life span shortening. When the man was finally incapacitated, Bruce didn't give a damn whether it was for good or not.

While they had fought, the eclipse had passed its peak and, with the pale moonlight slowly starting to return through the broken window, he was able to see her tied to a chair in a corner. Damn criminals, they had no imagination. He leaped to her and pulled at the rope that was biting into her chest and upper arms. "Are you hurt?"

She didn't answer, she was still staring at him. Those moves, that fight in the dark, so familiar. She'd seen it all before, in that dark alley in the city, when she'd been attacked at the beginning of the summer. If she'd had any doubts before, there were none left now.

"Are you hurt?" he repeated when she failed to answer.

"Uhh… no… but… there's a bomb!"

Bruce froze. Not again, one bomb per night was his norm. Grumbling under his breath he turned around and saw the display with red, fast-changing numbers not far from him. Good God, the box was at least three times bigger than the one he'd seen only an hour earlier. It would surely erase the entire mansion from the face of the earth, if it went off.

He stared, helpless, at the screen. He didn't know how to deactivate it, it wasn't his job. Something to learn for the future, he thought idly. There was no time to wait for the specialist team, the screen said 3:54. It took him 4:02 minutes to get to the Tumbler and take it out in the open. A car, any car… there had to be at least fifty parked on the driveway, but they were mostly heavy limos and, in that crowd, it would have taken him forever to get one out.

"How far can you throw?"

Was that irony in her voice? he wondered, but she looked serious.

"The roof," he murmured, understanding her idea, and she nodded. "Alfred, unlock the door!" he yelled picking up the heavy box.

By the time they reached the door, Alfred was just opening it. "Everything alright?… oh…"

"Give her the key," Bruce told him, passing by in a hurry. "And see to the fireworks, someone has turned them towards the house." He'd noticed that while he was sliding down the cord from the top floor.

Holding the master key in one hand, she went ahead to open the way, stopping only briefly at the bottom of the stairs to kick off her shoes. "Who was that?" she asked as she walked fast up the stairs.

"Don't know… haven't seen him before…" He hadn't seen him well during the fight either, he'd mostly guessed the features. "There are many important people here tonight… Gordon will figure it out." If someone wanted to get rid of most leaders and defenders, Batman included, and start chaos in the city, then this would be a great opportunity. Bruce reckoned it had to be something like that.

One flight of stairs, two, at the last set of steps they were both panting heavily. Luckily the key didn't give them any problem and they made it to the roof. A powerful telescope, a small garden, a table and chairs… where to go, where, where? All the guests were gathered at the front of the house, so they headed to the back. Twenty two seconds left.

Bruce picked up a prototype of a new bat cape that he was in the process of testing and had left propped against the parapet, attached it to the box and, forcing himself to lift the whole thing above his head, he opened the wings and sent it flying away. Both people on top of the building held their breath as they watched it heading towards the forest nearby. A couple of seconds later it exploded with a bang that reached up to them, setting several trees on fire.

"At least we spared the house this time." Bruce had the strength to smirk.

He leaned over the edge to see how Alfred was doing with the fireworks and the butler greeted him holding up in one hand the girl's shoes and, in the other, the remote used to control the launchers. Everything was alright, he nodded, and pressed a button to start the firework show.

The first explosion brought out a few gasps and wide eyes watched with delight as the sky filled with colorful stars. Another one followed and another one shortly after. Bruce let out a sigh, he was slowly becoming aware of all the aches and pains tormenting his body. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed she wasn't looking at the sky but at him.

"What?"

"You saved my life… I'm waiting for my flight," she grinned.

He frowned, no he couldn't admit he'd been the one who had saved her that night, he couldn't tell all this girlfriends that he was Batman, too many people knew already. Was she his girlfriend? He honestly didn't know, but he was Batman and nothing could stay in his way when he wanted something. "Maybe next time," he laughed and she smiled.

This would be a perfect moment for a kiss, alone on the roof with the sky lit by fireworks above. Said fireworks ruined that plan. One of the launchers had been forced and failed to react to the remote and Alfred wrongfully assumed the contacts were broken and it wasn't going to take fire. Wrong. It did, and it was heading right for them.

Bruce saw it and pulled the girl out of its way a split second before it turned into a pretty constellation and he dragged her down to the floor with him. Once there, he didn't have the power to pull himself up again.

"Awww… shit, you cut me!"

"What?" he gasped and rolled off her. "Where?"

She showed him the red line on her bare arm. But how had that happened? He looked down at himself and saw the sharp piece of glass that had stabbed his side. He was hurting in so many places he hadn't been aware of this in particular until now. "Fuck!" he swore and pulled it out, groaning. An arm wrapped around her to pull her closer and he rested his head on her shoulder. That hurt.

"Don't die on me," she murmured cradling him in his arms.

He sighed and opened his eyes to look at her lifting his head slightly. "Not tonight," he promised with a thin smile. Maybe someday a long time from now, but not tonight. "So where's my housewarming gift?" he asked teasingly.

"I forgot to bring it," she chuckled.

He took a long look in her deep dark eyes and murmured, "No, you didn't." Then, there was a kiss.

Housewarming gifts were not returnable. So she was staying. Perhaps.

The End


End file.
